All She Wrote
by Kay.In.Wonderland
Summary: What makes a person think they're so powerful and so mighty, that they can play god with others lives? Choose to let them live or die. Decide whether to kill them or not. To shoot them or not. Jimmy had a choice, he chose to play god. R&R please


**All She Wrote**

**A/N: Okay this is a different approach on the shooting events and abit after. It is written by me (xkayteex / kiki) and Mimi/ Mairead known as ForcedSmile. So I hope you enjoy and make sure to review we really worked hard on it. So Review and don't forget to REVIEW oh and REVIEW lols you can almost sense the desperation. **

**Note: We do not own One Tree Hill or claim that we nor do we own the song All She Wrote that is by Ross Copperman. **

Have you ever been Ignored, abused, and constantly being the every one's punch bag? I mean have you actually ever felt all of those feelings at the one place you are supposedly meant to be safe. School. Have you ever felt alone and wish that some one, any one would just notice you would just care enough to say hi or wave even a small smile could cheer up some ones day but see if you're not a basketball player, hot or rich then you are nobody at Tree Hill High. And then when you finally, finally get noticed after all that torture, you begin to wish you were back to when you were ignored even though it pained you to know the fact no-one cared. You were unloved. But unloved was defiantly better then fresh meat for bullies. The bloody noises, the bruises on my stomach and the swollen black eyes. This was a normal day. A Loser that was what I was branded as, but not just any loser. You see most losers at least had other friends who were also outcasts and losers like themselves. They had it easy they had more people to help protect them as for me. I had no one. I use to have friends who were also like me. Outcasts. Lucas, Mouth every one I knew had moved on. All were at a higher status and as they became apart of the elite they became just like the people that we once hated. They thought they were better than every one else and didn't care about any one. In doing so they forgot about those who were there for them in the first place. I kept myself company with my thoughts. Mocking the people who pretended they were better then me. Who needed them? Well I did and this is why it all happened. I don't even recognise myself anymore. This sickening smile that enjoys the thought having others being in pain.

So this is my story and the end of others. I may go out with a bang but at least I'll get my wish. I will be noticed and remembered. Even if it is as heartless monster. No-one will ever understand why I did what I had to do. They haven't suffered the pain I have. But I had to do this and now I can die and truly know I wasn't a walk over. I didn't let people constantly put me down. I can rest knowing that I had my sweet revenge. I made them notice me.

Brooke. Jimmy. Gunshot. Death. Murder.

Death was always something I've never been able to grip. The concept that your body stops working and you're gone. You're not speaking anymore, thinking, talking or eating. How someone can be with you one day talking and laugh, and then die the next. Just leave. Like that. A cold body in their place. Your spirit ascending into an unknown place, supposedly heaven or hell, depending on which you deserve. Murder. Another thing I've never been able to grip. What makes a person think they're so powerful and so mighty, that they can play god with others lives? Choose to let them live or die. Decide whether to kill them or not. To shoot them or not. Jimmy had a choice, he chose to play god. He chose to end Brooke's life, with one bullet. It wasn't his decision to make. But yet, what makes a person so desperate for attention and acceptance, that they bring a gun into school? A few things can come to my mind. Becoming lonely, having no friends, becoming Invisible to the students of Tree Hill High. I'm guessing these are the things Jimmy felt. Lucas, Mouth and Skills became popular and gained more friends. Enough new friends to make them forgot about his old ones. Jimmy was left behind. To be ignored, to be forgotten. He felt betrayed. His friends didn't want him anymore. They didn't need him. In one way I can understand why he brought the gun into school. To get even with the bullies after the time capsule accident, to scare them.

Too bad he couldn't have just scared them and fired blanks, instead of the real thing. He took away someone from this world. He took Brooke away from us. From me. He took Brooke away from me. I dream that day every night. I was walking with Brooke into school, I was laughing, at one of her jokes. Like I normally do when surrounded by the one person that I loved like a sister. It was a normal day. No-one could have predicted the events of black Tuesday. There he was, a sick smile formed on his lips holding the gun firmly in his hand with that desperate look in his eyes as if he wanted help. It was only until I felt a sharp pain in my leg that I realised what happened. Lying on the floor cold sweat forming on my body as the blood ran down my leg, I looked at Brooke desperate for help. I didn't know what to do. The agonising pain washed over me as I dazed off for a second. Tears quickly built up in my eyes as Brooke offered her hand. I realised how difficult this situation was for her. She could have run and been in a safe place away from the murderous ass. I took hold off it gripping for my dear life as she pulled me up, as I dared not let my left leg fall back onto the ground, knowing the pain it would cause me. I feel into that daze again letting go into a soft tranquille place. I almost felt as if I was slipping away leaving to heaven. Until I woke up in cold sweat, in the library. My eyes dart towards Brooke. She looks at me knowing that if she doesn't get me out of here soon I will die but we both know she can't carry me out.

"Just leave." I say in a chocked up voice. I wasn't trying to be a hero if any thing I was selfish for keeping her as long as I did but now I feel it. Death. It's slowly taking me as its next victim. It seemed to like my family a lot so it was only right to be my turn next. "You know I am not going to make it. I don't want you to see me die. I don't want this to be your last memory of me." I smile lightly almost to reassure me more then her. She rolls her eyes at me as if I am the stupidest person alive which could possibly true.

"God Peyton. Anymore stupid ideas like that then I will kill you myself. I promise we will both make it out." She desperately tries to keep it light but I can see through her façade. I know she knows that I am being truthful.

"Your stubborn you know that?" I croak out a laugh before giving her a thankful smile. "Thanks for being a best friend. I know cheesy." I muster out in a croaky voice.

Brooke smiles softly at me. She's trying to be strong. For both us. "I will always be your best friend Peyton, nothing will ever change that. Nothing" She takes my hand and squeezes it tight as tears threaten to fall. It's like she's saying her last words to me because we both know what's coming. I just don't think she can accept it.

"Brooke..." I start taking on a serious tone. "I lo-"

She cuts me off and I can see her tears have finally fallen, "Don't" she whispers looking at me. "Don't" she repeats.

"I love you" It's like one of those end scenes in a movie. When the wounded says their last words to the person they love, or the best friend that's always been there for them, but in the movies, everything turns out okay. Background music plays and someone bursts through the door to save the hostages. The wounded person gets medical help and everything turns into a happy ending. Sadly I hear no background music and I know this isn't a movie, or one of my dreams. This is real, and I'm going to die. I have to deal with it.

It's then that I see her break. She collapses into uncontrollable sobs and cries onto my shoulder. "I love you too" I'm able to make out in between cries. I let a smile cross my lips. I'd always known that whenever fate decided it was my time, my best friend would be there. She would be there to hold my hand as I feel death finally taking over.

"Hey, don't cry." I whisper out to her, letting my eyes close for the briefest minute, "You'll mess up your make up" All the comforting lines I could have picked, and I used the lamest line. She laughs lightly and lifts her head from my shoulder and tries to wipe the tears away, as mascara runs down her face.

"I'm going to miss you so much" she says and I know she's on the verge of crying again, truth be told, so am I. I don't want to leave my best friend, I don't. I want to stay and enjoy senior year with her and prom. We've talked about it since we were 8. But I know nothing can be done and I'll eventually bleed out. Bright side is I'll get to see my moms. That's the only good thing. I'll leave my best friend an empty shell of what she once was. She shouldn't have to live a life grieving over me and blaming herself partly, because I know that's what she'll do.

"Brooke..." I trail off again, as my energy is starting to weaken and I know the process is starting. "I want you to..." I'm about to tell her to live her life like she always would have, and not to push people out because of my death. I was going to tell her to become famous and have a family and not let this day change her forever. But I don't get to finish my sentence, because there _he _is, standing a little from us. He's looking directly at me, the desperate look that I once saw before is now gone. Only to be replaced with hate. He's looking at me, as if this is all my fault and I have to be punished for it. I feel Brooke's hand go to my arm in an act of fear. He still doesn't speak; he just keeps his gun aimed at me. It shouldn't happen this way. No. I'm not to be shot dead instantly by some pathetic guy who thinks that killing everyone will make him noticed. No.

Before I can stop her, Brooke has stood up and is slowly advancing towards him. I can't call out for her to stop because at this point, my energy is weakening and I can't even so much as whisper. What the hell is she doing? She'll get herself killed.

"Jimmy..." she starts and I can only sit back and watch as I beg life to cling desperately onto me." Jimmy, you don't want to do this." she swallows down a dry lump, and I beg her in my mind not to say anything stupid. Jimmy still has his eyes fixed on me. "I know you're feeling betrayed at the moment." she pauses, "And lonely right? I know-" she's cut off by Jimmy as his gazes finally let's go of mine.

"How the hell would you know?" he spits, his voice laced with venom. "You're a cheerleader, you're popular. You have everything in high school. A boyfriend. Friends. You have people who would do anything just to be seen talking to you, girls who would kill themselves just trying to be you and boys throwing themselves at you. You don't have to try as hard as you can to be noticed. And even when you are, you're subjected to the worst possible abuse. You have no idea how I feel." he looks around, "I had friends once. People who accepted me, people who noticed me, people who didn't care if I wore glasses and how I dressed, they just liked me. But no, they were taken from me as well. They became popular, they joined the basketball team or became noticed some how and I slowly slipped from their minds. I was just a distant memory, to be forgotten and left behind. So until you've experienced that, you have no idea how to begin to feel how I do. You're just like the rest of them only worse. You're a cheerleader." his voice is filled with so much hate and so much sadness at the same time, I feel sorry for him a little. Even though I know it's wrong to.

It's here that Brooke switches on defensive mode, and I've never wanted to hit her so much in my life. "I may be a cheerleader, but that doesn't mean I'm a bad person. Sure I was in the past but I've changed, I've grown up. Something you might want to try. You don't bring a gun into school and shoot everyone just because they've called you names. It's high school, the worst 4 years of our lives. No one has it easy and just because you think we do, it's no reason to do this. Everyone has a problem, maybe not as bad as yours but they still do." she finishes and I know she instantly regrets it. Her eyes widen as she's made a big mistake and I pray to god he won't pull the trigger. She looks to me as if asking what can she do, her eyes search mine but they don't contain the answer.

It's then I hear it. The click, the gunshot. I see Brooke's reaction when the bullet hits her chest, she looks down to place where blood is now starting to appear. She's shot. Jimmy eyes widen I can tell he is shock by his own actions as he stares at her now lifeless body falls to the ground. Brooke Davis is dead. "No!!!" I shout out using every ounce of strength I have, shaking my head. Jimmy gasps and look away ashamed. "No!" I shout again as tears pour from my eyes. I stare at her and beg for her to show the tiniest sign of life. For her eyes to move, her finger to twitch, for her to breath, but nothing happens. She's left me. I bury my head in my hands. She's gone. She's dead. I continue shaking my head as all I want to do is crawl over and lay with her. She can't be dead, she's my best friend. She's only 17.

I lift my face to look at _him _he looks as disgusted as I am with him. He looks at the gun and then at me as if saying sorry. He's a murderer and I'll hate him until the day I die. Which I hope is soon as I'm continuing to bleed out and no-one is bursting through the door. Yes. A shed of hope. I can die too and join my best friend in the after life if there even is one. The point is I will be with Brooke again. I hear another gun shot, and I don't have to look up to see that's he's killed himself. I don't feel pity or sadness over his death. I only feel that he deserves to die, for killing her, for taking her away from me, though another apart of me feels he got away too easily. He should have went to jail felt along period of time of pain in jail where he felt pain and torture and endless life in high school expect for with guys who will give him no mercy and he will feel true pain instead of the pathetic pain he cried and pouted about through high school. I try to make my self comfortable in the spot I'm in, my face stained with tears. I'll die and join her, but sadly this was not to happen. I had seen his confused stare at me. His eyes then turned to the direction of Brooke who lay on the ground. I never saw him so hurt, so broken. He tries to be strong as he lifts me. I beg him to leave me to let me die he doesn't listen. Lucas Scott saved me that day despite what I wanted to happen. I remember telling him I'm sorry. That it should have been me not her. I know what he was thinking that I was pathetic and weak and possibly selfish for letting Brooke die. I feel the same spiteful hate towards myself for sitting back even though I knew what horrible fate that was in store for her. The minute I seen her shouting uncontrollably at Jimmy. I knew. I should have stopped it but I didn't. The rest was a daze. Maybe it was the number of drugs given to me at the hospital or my mind trying to repress the memory and it did but only temporarily.

The funeral was the worst. Have you ever had to burry that one person you knew you couldn't live without? While every one stared at you thinking 'Poor Peyton' Well I didn't want to be poor Peyton. I wanted to be hated or for some one to shout at me because it was my fault instead of them being sympathetic. I didn't deserve nor did I want there pity. There were many people there at her funeral but they didn't deserve to be. They didn't know her like I did. None of them did not even her parents who cried and wept for there unwanted child. They probably realise know what a great daughter and person she was but it was too late. I poured the dirt onto her coffin though I didn't cry I think had no tears left to cry. I just closed my eyes pretending it wasn't her I was burying. There was a party afterwards at her house though I couldn't force myself to go to her house knowing she wouldn't be there while every one told endless stories about her. They were just memories now. They had accepted she was dead but I would never accept that fact. Not to mention Lucas would be there. I couldn't face him I felt to guilty for letting his girlfriend die. The love of his life slip away. I could never look at him in the same way. So that left me alone and I knew that I would be on my own for the rest of my life.

So this brings me up to now. Now where I am lying on the bathroom floor not daring to move or care what others think. Whether they think I am selfish for not living my life after Brooke pretty much saved me. Or maybe they think I am pathetic little girl who thrives for attention and just wants some one to save her. I don't want to be saved any more. I want to rot away here. Pain is only temporary. I remember people telling me that time after time. But that is the thing I want to feel pain. I don't want to move on with my life without her. It's not fair. Though it was only a few day when I began to feel numb. Not angry, not sad nor happy. Just nothing. The only thing that made me technically alive is that I am still breathing. I hear the knocking and the desperate calls from my dad begging me to come out. To eat. To live. But I don't. I just lay staring into space imagining the different ways that day could have happened with a happy ending or pretending Brooke is still with me. I know what she would say if she was still here 'P.Sawyer get your scrawny ass out of there right now.' And then hit me for being so stupid. I sigh as my eyes stare fixated at the razor. I never really understood why people would cut themselves. How it helps the situation at all. In fact I hated those people due to the fact they were throwing their lives away while other people are dying who want to life. But know I am one of those and I know that from the second I lift the razor from the counter. It felt good to feel pain again and soon enough I got addicted hurting myself I could tell I was getting out of control but it made me feel closer to Brooke as stupid as that sounds. I kept slicing in the same spot wishing, hoping that I would soon bleed out. I don't think that was the plan to actually kill myself. It just started innocent but then I didn't stop. I continuously drug the razor across my wrist as the blood poured out. I felt dizzy and weak again just like that day as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I knew this time I wouldn't be saved and I was actually thankful. Then it came. My life flashed before my eyes. It was short but sweet. Then I felt at peace in a slumber sleep that lasted forever.


End file.
